


You're Beautiful

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blind Date, F/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6545290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I saw an angel, of that I'm sure / She smiled at me on the subway..." </p><p>In which one early morning tube ride sparks romance, matchmaking shenanigans, and something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlebritishteacup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebritishteacup/gifts).



> TFW the gf wants lestrolly

It’s far too early for Greg to honestly be awake, but that’s just the life of a detective inspector. Crime, apparently, has no need for sleep, and somehow expects the law to be able to keep up with that-- he’d consider that extremely fucking rude, too, if it wasn’t already glaringly clear that criminals as a whole didn’t care to be considerate.  
  
Just as it’s far too early for Greg to be awake, it was really far too early for him to consider getting a taxi. He had, on more than one occasion, fallen asleep in one on his way to work or a crime scene, and the drivers had wasted no time using his nap to take the longest routes to wherever it was he was going and rack up a large fare. So instead, he’d decided to face the tube with a cup of coffee and a less than sunny disposition, because at the very least there was no chance of him falling asleep _there_.  
  
The only saving grace of this entire situation is that there’s really nobody else on when he gets on. It was nice to know that, at the very least, he wouldn’t have to listen to the usual high volume drone of other people nattering on around him. He was happy with that, and had almost fallen asleep standing up despite himself when there was a jolt in the system, and he went stumbling. Greg managed to recover, thank _god_ , but he couldn’t say the same for his coffee, which went sprawling in slow motion into the lap of the woman across from him.  
  
“Oh my _god_!” He couldn’t tell whose declaration was first, or loudest, or which of them was spluttering the most, but it really just had to be Greg’s luck to spill coffee on quite possibly the prettiest girl he’d seen in the last month. God  _damn_ him, and goddamn his coffee, and his sleep, and everything else in the world right now.  
  
“I’m so sorry--” he began at the same time as she started to say “I’m alright, really--” and both of them started patting themselves down for something to help with the obviously scorching puddle now in her lap.  
  
“Jesus _Christ_ , I need to keep awake better.” Greg mumbled, finally fishing a crumpled napkin from his trouser pocket and offering it to her. “I’m sorry, really.”  
  
“It’s alright.” the woman said softly, when it quite obviously wasn’t. The coffee stain, thank god, had mostly disappeared from her jumper, so there was at least that small grace. “It happens to the best of us.’  
  
“Falling asleep on the tube and spilling coffee and pretty women?” he shot back. “No, no I don’t think it does.”  
  
“Oh!” The woman laughed, her cheeks turning a bit pink. “Well. Now that you say so, no, it doesn’t. I’ve never done it myself.”  
  
“I guess that qualifies you as the best of us, then.” Greg replied, laughing a bit himself now that the worst of the initial embarrassment had passed. He gestured to the seat next to her, figuring it’d be a bit better (and a little safer) than just standing there for the rest of the ride. “May I?”  
  
“Of course,” she said graciously, smiling as she moved over a bit on the seat so he could sit down. “Molly.”  
In his still not quite awake stupor, it took Greg a moment to realize that Molly was most likely her name, and he gave a brilliant grin in reply. “Greg; nice to meet you, though if I could have had my choice it would have been in a condition much better than this.”  
  
Molly laughed, giving a small shrug. “Better this than where I’m headed, I guess. My work isn’t the best place for meeting… attractive people.”  
  
“Neither is mine.” he conceded, which got him another laugh. “I suppose we’ll both just be grateful for the tube then, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Molly hummed, and Greg wasn’t inclined to schoolboy crushes- really, he wasn’t; he was far too old for that- but he would be lying if he said his stomach didn’t do a bit of a flip at the small smile that came with the word.  
  
They ended up chatting the rest of the time, and it wasn’t until the doors opened a third time that Molly made a disappointed face. “This one’s mine.” she said, standing and gathering her things. “Thanks for the coffee, I suppose. It was nice meeting you; maybe we could… go round for a pint some time?”  
  
“Yeah!” Greg said, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. “Of course, yes, I’d love to. Let me just--” He rummaged around in his pockets again, looking for a pen with which to write down his number, but suddenly the doors were closing, and Molly uttered a “oh, god, sorry!” and was gone before he could look up again.  
  
Greg watched the doors to the carriage shut entirely and the train start moving again with a look of disappointment on his face, pen in hand for the rest of his ride.  
  
If he was maybe a bit moodier than usual when he got into the office, his team knew better than to say anything about it.  
  


* * *

  
  
“-- And, _god_ , he was _gorgeous_.” Molly sighed, head in her hands. “A bit older, yeah, but that didn’t take away from anything. And we had the best chat, and he said yes when I asked him out and I just had to _leave him there_ , and god, what am I supposed to _do_?”  
  
Unremarkably, none of the bodies around her replied, but Sally did tut a bit and pat her on the back consolingly. “You just need to forget him,” she said sagely. “If you’re never going to find him again, then what’s the big deal?”  
  
“He was just so--” Molly made a hand gesture here that really couldn’t be interpreted as anything. “And I liked him, I really did.”  
  
“You talked with him for half an hour.” Sally pointed out. “And he did spill coffee on you; maybe he’s a horrible klutz that’ll end up breaking your china.”  
  
“I don’t _have_ china.” Molly huffed, but she conceded that Sally may have a point.  
  
“Here’s what we’ll do-- I have a lovely guy that would one hundred percent be interested, so I’ll set you two up.” Sally chirped. “He’s divorced, not recently, and he isn’t entirely bad to look at if you’re into older blokes.”  
  
“Right,” Molly sighed. “Thanks, Sally, honestly.”

“What’re friends for?” Sally smiled, picking up the folder she’s come for and giving her a wink. “I’ll call you about it later, yeah?”  


* * *

  
  
“-- And she really is a nice girl, Greg; you’ll love her.” Sally was jogging alongside him, trying to go through her sales pitch. He sighed for what felt like the millionth time in that conversation, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from just snapping at her.  
  
“Now _really_ isn’t the time, Sally.” he said, stepping around a not yet dry pool of blood. He was keeping an eye on Sherlock as he poked around the crime scene, and while he was thankful for the respite from his and Donovan’s usual bickering, following him around trying to set him up on a date with a mortician wasn’t that much better.  
  
“And why not? No time like the present and all that.” Sally had gotten ahead of him now. She was grinning like a shark, and Greg knew there was danger in that smile.  
  
“First of all, you’re standing next to a man who’s recently lost his hands.” Greg deadpanned. “And second, I’ve already met someone.”  
  
Sally’s eyebrows shot to her hairline, disbelieving. “Someone like who?”  
  
“There was a girl on a train yesterday,” Greg said. Sally’s eyes went wide, and her grin got wider.  
  
“Did you get her number?” she asked, and there was something in her tone that Greg felt should probably be throwing up red flags.  
  
“No?” he said slowly, brow furrowing. “I… no. I was going to, but the train doors were closing, and--”  
  
“And you should let me set you up.” Sally cut in. “Just one date, and I promise you won’t regret it.”  
  
Greg frowned, and he almost said no, but Sherlock’s voice cut through. “Lestrade!”  
  
“Fine,” he conceded, just to escape. “Fine, fine.”  
  
“Tomorrow, seven o’clock, wear something nice.” Sally said. “I’ll give you the address later.” With that, she swept away, leaving him to be drug away by Sherlock, who was babbling something about sharpened butter knives.  


* * *

  
  
Molly tried not to fiddle with the cuffs of her sleeves as she waited for her date to arrive. She’d been some mix of nervous and overly excited for this all day, and ten minutes after when the guy was actually supposed to be here, she was starting to wonder if this whole blind dating thing was such a good idea after all.  
  
Just as she was considering standing and leaving, the doors opened, and Molly became very, very happy that she’d stayed. “Greg?” she called, and Greg’s gaze shot up and towards her, a grin spreading across his face.  
  
“Molly, hey!” he said, moving over to her table. “Small world, I’m guessing.”  
  
“Ha, yeah.” Molly said, tips of her ears going red. “Small world. What brings you here?”  
  
“Not coffee, you’ll be happy to know.” Greg laughed. “I’m uh—god. Supposed to be going on a date?”  
  
Molly’s stomach dropped to her shoes. “Oh,” she said, trying not to let her disappointment show. “I-I’m… well, so am I, actually. Blind date thing- one of my friends set me up, but, he’s… running a bit late.”

“What a tosser.” Greg snorted. “Mine’s same boat, blind date —but, I don’t think she’s showed up yet. I could keep you company, if you’d like?”  
  
She grinned. “Yeah, that’d be great.”  
They both took a seat, and fell into easy conversation after that, just as they had on the train. It wasn’t until all but one of the shop’s patrons had left that Molly really realized the time. “I’d probably better be going.” she said, not bothering to hide her reluctance, tacking on a sigh. “I should probably tell Sally that her guy never showed up, either.”  
  
Greg’s brow furrowed. “Sally?” he asked. “Donovan?”  
  
Molly blinked. “I mean, yeah.” she said. “How did you..?”  
  
“She works with me.” Greg said, and he looked like something was just dawning on him. “I… I think your date did show up, after all.”  
  
Molly blinked again, still confused for a moment, before it all caught up with her. “Oh!” she said. “Oh, you’re---“  
  
“Guess so.” Greg said, shrugging and looking a bit sheepish. “Figures. She got this look when I told her I’d met someone on the subway, like she—“  
  
“Knew, yeah; I’d told her.” Molly laughed. “Guess we owe her one, huh?”

“Guess so.” Greg said, and made a mental note to assign her to at least two or three non-Sherlock case. She’d take that as a gift, probably. He cleared his throat. “Did you, ah—maybe want to do this again, sometime?”  
  
Molly grinned. “Oh, absolutely.” She said. “Thursday, same time?”  
  
“Thursday.” Greg agreed. “And, I won’t be late this time.”  
  
\------------------------  
  
In the end, they didn’t have to wait until Thursday to see one another; bright and early Wednesday morning, Greg was back on the tube, and as it happened, so was Molly. She grinned broadly at him as he got on, turning her head to the side. “Sit?” she asked, and Greg grinned back.  
  
“Don’t mind if I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an American who lives nowhere near a subway, so, if that bit's iffy-- oops.


End file.
